Whilst we are recording from our notes the productions of early
genius, another document presents itself, which, from its singularity,
appears deserving of preservation, and which, from its unquestionable
authenticity, defies alike all cavil and dispute. It appears to
have found its place in this Olio, from the immediate and personal
communication of the individual who was the cause of its being written.
The story in brief is this:—
In a remote village in Gloucestershire, the son of a peasant had
attracted the particular notice of the clergyman and principal people
of the place, from the indications which he had, on various occasions
manifested, of superior abilities. These appearing to be progressive,
and far beyond his original destination in life, joint contributions
were made to extend his education, and maintain him at the University.
This was accordingly done, and with such success, that the object of
this liberality did ample honour to his patrons, by his extraordinary
reputation, his profound learning, and numerous valuable publications.
He was a moon among the lesser stars, and although whilst he lived,
partly from waywardness of circumstances, partly from the simplicity
and unsuspicious nature of his own temper and manners, and partly from
the literary jealousy or constitutional irritability of others, he was
involved in controversies, yet the claims of Dr. ⸺ talents and learning,
were universally allowed, and the productions of his pen, universally
admired.
Whilst yet a child at the village school, the gentleman who was most
actively his friend, desired him to write his opinion on what was most
to be desired—Peace or War. In a very short space of time, he wrote what
follows, and which perhaps was the very first thing he ever did write.
“Whoever reflects on the evils, mischiefs, and troubles, which war
embroils a nation in, and the security, comfort, and happiness of peace,
must allow that peace is infinitely preferable to war. By which is
meant, that peace, in its salutary effects and consequences, is much
more desirable than war. Nor will any one doubt the truth of this
position, who considers the vast expences that must support a war with a
powerful enemy, the innumerable dangers to which a people, especially the
militant part, are exposed, and the quantity of blood that must be shed
in maintaining it; who considers again the blessings of peace, how those
fields which before were laid waste, are cultivated, those cities rebuilt
which were before demolished, and those arts and manufactures improved
which were before neglected.
“History furnishes us with sufficient examples of the truth of this;
we need but look back into the state of ancient Greece and Rome, and
we shall find that they flourished chiefly in times of peace, and that
’twas then their improvement in the learned arts were chiefly made, which
verifies this, that peace is preferable to war. The latter of which
resembles wild-fire, laying waste wherever it comes; the former may be
compared to balmy sleep, strengthening the body politic, and diffusing
over it a grateful recreation. War therefore ought to be dreaded, and all
proper means used to avoid it, and obtain an honourable peace, since ’tis
certain that peace is preferable to war.”
There is yet one other specimen preserved, which, with that which
precedes, is copied from the Professor’s own hand-writing.
Scribendi recte sapere est principium et fons.
“To write with correctness, elegance, and good sense, requires an able
judgment, and a diffusive knowledge in literature. There must first be
store of ideas treasured up, before any pure rivulets can flow from it.
In short, ’tis necessary, in order to become a good writer, to understand
well nature herself, to copy her in her paintings, to represent things
in their true light, and then to decorate the descriptions with suitable
language agreeable to Horace.
Scribendi recte sapere est principium et fons.
“Whose authority is to be regarded, as he was himself as accomplished
a writer as any in the Augustan age. And most certain it is, that a
good writer stands in need of all these qualifications, and a defect of
them renders writing contemptible and ridiculous. For how can a writer
represent a thing to the age, if he does not understand it thoroughly
himself?
“How can he describe it properly, if he does not understand the effect
it produces, and the consequences which follow it? ’Tis only a clear
understanding of the subject in all its various branches, that can
constitute a good writer; so that Horace’s rule, though applied by him
to poetical performances, may with equal reason be adapted to other
writings, and we may with him conclude, that
Scribendi recte sapere est principium et fons.”
A casual and slight perusal of the above composition, may perhaps not
discover any indication of those very superior abilities, which were
afterwards exercised in an elevated station, and admired by the world;
but more serious examination will detect beneath the surface something
like manly reflection, arrangement of ideas, and, if it may be so said,
of syllogistic reasoning.
The subject is alluring, and what observes our Sexagenarian in his Notes
forbids its being pursued somewhat further?
Laud we the gods once more!
For now at last the sacred influence
Of light appears, and from the walls of heaven
Shoots far into the bosom of dim night
A glimmering dawn.